Maezli eBook

Before the mother went off to church on Sunday morning
she always glanced into the living-room to see if
the children were quietly settled at their different
occupations and to hope that everything would remain
in order during her absence. When she looked
in to-day everything was peaceful. Bruno and
Mea were both sitting in a corner lost in a book, Kurt
had spread out his drawings on a table before him,
and Lippo and Maezli were building on their small
table a beautiful town with churches, towers and large
palaces. The mother was thoroughly satisfied and
went away. For awhile everything was still.
A bright ray of sunshine fell over Kurt’s drawing
and gaily played about on the paper. Kurt, looking
up, saw how the meadows were sparkling outside.

“The two rascally milk-spillers from yesterday
ought to be locked up for the whole day,” Kurt
suddenly exploded.

Mea apparently had been busy with the same thought
for she assented very eagerly. The two talked
over the whole affair anew and had to give vent to
their indignation about the scoundrels and their pity
for poor Loneli. Maezli must have found the conversation
entertaining, for glancing over to the others, she
let Lippo place the blocks whichever way he pleased,
something that very seldom happened. Only when
the children said no more she came back to her task.

“Goodness gracious!” Kurt exclaimed suddenly,
starting up from his drawing; “you ought to
have reminded me, Mea, that we have to bring some
clothes to school for the poor people whose houses
were burnt up. You heard it, but mother does
not even know about it yet.”

“I forgot it, too,” said Mea quietly,
continuing to read.

“Mother knows about it long ago. I told
her right away,” Lippo declared. “Teacher
told us to be sure not to forget.”

“Quite right, little school fox,” Kurt
replied, while he calmly kept on drawing. As
long as his mother knew about the matter he did not
need to bother any more.

But the last words had interested Maezli very much.
Throwing together the houses, towers and churches
she said to Lippo, “Come, Lippo, I know something
amusing we can do which will please mama, too.”

Lippo wondered what that could be, but he first laid
every block neatly away in the big box and did not
let Maezli hurry him in the least.

“Don’t do it that way,” Maezli called
out impatiently. “Throw them all in and
put on the lid. Then it’s all done.”

“One must not do that, Maezli; no one must do
it that way,” Lippo said seriously. “One
ought to put in the first block and pack it before
one takes up the second.”

“Then I won’t wait for you,” Maezli
declared, rapidly whisking out by the door.

When Lippo had properly filled the box and set it
in its right place, he quickly followed Maezli, wondering
what her plan was. But he could find her nowhere,
neither in the hall nor in the garden, and he got no
answer to his loud, repeated calls. Finally a
reply came which sounded strangely muffled, as if
from up above, so he went up and into her bedroom.
There Maezli was sitting in the middle of a heap of
clothes, her head thrust far into a wardrobe.
Apparently she was still pulling out more things.